Gathering The Commons

Gathering the Commons at St. Stephen’s Chapel, Norwood Cemetery, 31st May – 8th June 2025 conceived by Catherine Morland & curated by Bosse & Baum Gallery.The exhibition brings together a group of artists whose practices explore the intricate relationships between humans, non-humans, landscapes, and natural materials.

Lucy Mayes
Catherine Morland 
Marissa Stoffer
Sara Trillo

Exhibition dates: 31 May – 8 June 2025

Address: St Stephen’s Chapel, Norwood Cemetery,
Norwood Rd, London, SE27 9JU

‘Transmuting The Oak: An ode to Quercus robur’

Transmuting the Oak, comprising of a suite of twelve paintings on linen, suspended from oak poles, accompanied by a selection of vessels. Among them is a hand-blown hourglass of my own design, delicately dusted with handmade ochre sourced from London. All pigments within this body of work were produced by hand in my studio and functioned as material focal points through which to contemplate the local oak trees in the cemetery where the work was both derived and exhibited. The project engaged the oak chemically, symbolically, and ecologically, employing its ash, bark, plant galls, timber, and the soil from which it grew as chromatic matter. In doing so, the tree was not merely represented but materially transmuted into colour. The vessels, lightly adorned with pigment bound by a locally derived, sustainable binder (cherry tree gum), presented the materials in their near-raw state. Their ephemeral nature of binder choice was intentional: a gesture toward impermanence and return. Installed in dialogue with the funerary urns in the surrounding cemetery, they echoed the language of memorial forms while foregrounding the cyclical transformation of matter,  from tree, to ash, to pigment, back to earth again. 

Medium: Handmade oak derived and earth pigments, cherry sap, casein, chalk on cotton. Pine battens stained with oak carbon black pigment. 

Dimensions: Individual pieces: 80 cm x 65 cm

St. Stephen’s Chapel, Norwood Cemetery

Transmuting the Oak includes two finite pieces of work, the above vessels titled Breath of the Earth (returning) made of various vessels with Oak derived/ related pigments affixed to on English oak plinths alongside a series of six paintings. 

Medium: Handmade earth and oak derived pigments, cherry sap, casein on repurposed glassware with limpet shell. Reclaimed oak plinths.

Dimensions: Variable. 

London Ochre from South London affixed to a reagent jar.

Calcined Oak (carbon black) affixed to a cloche.

London Yellow Ochre affixed to a upturned bon bon cup.

Oak Ash affixed to an antique pharmacy vessel.

Brown Brick Pigment affix to a bespoke hand-blown hourglass to artist's design. Glass Handmade in Essex.

Transmuting The Oak full suite of 6 paintings in situ

From Left to Right:

Oak + heat + oxygen

Medium: Carbonised English Oak pigment laid upon madder (Rubia tinctorum) lake pigment and London chalk. The madder lake was created with an oak derived tannin fixative and potash. Pigments bound in cherry gum. Casein chalk gesso ground on cotton.

Oak + heat (Hypoxic)

Medium: English Oak ash, oak tannin ink, madder (Rubia tinctorum) lake pigment. The madder lake was created with an oak derived tannin fixative and potash. Pigments bound in cherry gum.  Casein chalk gesso ground on cotton.

Clay + heat 

Medium: London clay and calcined London clay with madder lake. The madder (Rubia tinctorum) lake was created with an oak derived tannin fixative and potash. Pigments bound in cherry gum. Casein chalk gesso ground on cotton.

Oak Galls (Andricus quercuscalicis) + water + iron + heat

Medium: Oak tannin lake pigment and dye based ink bound in cherry gum. Casein chalk gesso ground on cotton.

Chlorophyll + water + copper 

Medium: Lake pigments made from chlorophyll and tannins derived from oak leaves (supplemented by stinging nettles). Copper and iron modifiers used. Pigments bound in cherry gum. Casein chalk gesso ground on cotton.

Quercitron + tannin + water + iron 

Medium: Lake pigments derived from ragwort Jacobaea vulgaris made with tannin and iron modifiers. Pigments bound in cherry gum. Casein chalk gesso ground on cotton.

BELOW: Detail from paintings using tannins, dyes and pigment all derived from English Oak. Pigments bound in casein on chalk ground upon raw linen oak poles. Dimensions variable.

Thoughts on the work

Transmuting The Oak: An ode to Quercus robur

Through the production of pigments, Lucy came to know the oaks of the cemetery intimately, Pin oak, English oak, Holm oak, not just as trees, but as material collaborators. Their timber, galls, ash, and tannins became tools of transformation, allowing the artist to engage with them not only visually, but chemically and sensorially.

In this work, materials were obtained from a sample of reclaimed English oak, sourced as waste from a cabinet maker to create a pigment spectrum. The oak tree, long revered across cultures as a symbol of strength and endurance, was purposefully selected for its unique physical and chemical properties that enhance and stabilise natural dyes. The ash of the oak yields potassium carbonate (commonly known as potash), an alkali that plays a critical role in converting dyes into more durable pigments. Additionally, the tree’s natural tannins act as fixatives, binding fragile, fugitive colourants and anchoring them more permanently within the visible realm.

From the perspective of a professional pigment maker, the oak is honored not only for its symbolic stature but for its vital role in the production of colour, its chemistry lending strength and permanence to otherwise fleeting hues. This piece sits within Lucy’s broader body of work as both pigment maker and researcher, where materiality and meaning are entwined. How and when do materials take on their symbolic resonance? Is it through repeated ritual use that they accrue cultural, medicinal, or spiritual significance? Might the act of application itself give rise to knowledge, transforming the material not just chemically, but epistemologically?

Pigments are not merely substances that provide colour, they are complex chemical compounds with diverse properties, capable of being used in a wide range of contexts and applications. Their repeated, habitual use, often embedded in ritual practice, can generate embodied knowledge and elicit deep psychological effects. Materials such as tannins, carbon, clay, and iron oxide have long histories not only as pigments but also as medicinal agents. In this piece, for example, the yellow dye was derived from the toxic compounds in ragwort, while London clay was incorporated for its absorptive properties, serving as a natural antidote within the same material vocabulary. Just as a pigment diffuses outward into water or binder, so too do its meanings and uses extend beyond the surface, pigments bleed as multifaceted matter, with properties that reach far beyond the visual, into chemical, cultural, and symbolic realms.

Breath of the Earth (returning)

In the production of pigments, an abstraction from the source inevitably occurs. Through intricate transformations and careful distillations, a once-recognisable material undergoes transmutation, becoming fine, particulate dusts, rendered useful to the artist for a multitude of applications. And yet, these dusts are not inert; they are slowly shifting, becoming, alive in their own way. If dust is what we are destined to become, it is dust that also made us. 

Rather than being contained within a finite vessel for display, the pigments in this piece have been only temporarily fixed to their surface, always on the verge of movement or return. While examining antique pigment bottles in the archive of venerable pigment retailer L. Cornelissen & Son, Lucy came across a 19th-century jar of genuine ivory black pigment with a small puncture, as if something had pierced its side. Peering into the hole, she was swallowed by the velvety black abyss within. That moment sparked a poetic reflection on the vessels we've used to hold color throughout history.

As far back as 500,000 years ago, humans used shells to hold pigments, later, even the curved vertebrae of whales. With the advent of glass technology, new modes of containment became possible, yet the transparency of glass can paradoxically obscure the full chromatic depth of the pigment it encases. Reminiscent of urns in a cemetery, these works quietly meditate on containment, memory, and the fragility of what we attempt to preserve.